


Long Before

by TheUltimateSaltySnack



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Loss, One Shot, Prison, Short, Short One Shot, Tattoos, Trapped, under 1000 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateSaltySnack/pseuds/TheUltimateSaltySnack
Summary: Ryoma Hoshi's new cellmate asks about his only prized possession before offering a strange suggestion.





	Long Before

**Author's Note:**

> * Here is something I wrote for a 1000 word contest on amino! My prompt was "tattoos."
> 
> ~ Carnival

The guards walked him in on the Tuesday after they released my previous cellmate. I lowered my magazine to watch. Resentment marred the new guy’s expression.

“Six months, Owada!”

They shoved him forward like the weekly garbage and secured the door. When their treads faded down the hall, the newcomer, Owada, turned to me.

“What’s up with you? What’d you do?”

I considered staying silent but, remembering how much trouble starting off on the wrong foot with my previous cellmate had caused me, I spoke.

“Murder.”

That caught Owada’s attention. He plopped onto the cot across from mine, interlocking his fingers. The bedsprings groaned.

“You for real? Er— it wasn’t any women or kids though, right?”

“No.”

I reopened my magazine, hoping to deter further questioning. No such luck.

“So, how long’ve you been here?”

“Five years.”

“Five f*cking years…” He whistled. “I’ll be straight with you. I’m only interested because it makes me feel better. About the shit I did.”

He leaned his head against the wall and I saw grief in his lilac eyes. He gave the back of his skull a slight thump.

I surprised myself by continuing the conversation.

“Six months isn’t bad. That means you didn’t kill someone.”

He clenched up. “No... No, I didn’t. It was just… reckless driving. On my bike.”

Of course a breathing cliche like Owada had a motorcycle. I could tell the vehicle would suit him.

“Tell me your name,” he said.

“Ryoma…. Hoshi.”

••••••••

Mondo Owada proved better than my old companion. He didn’t get a kick out of harassing me, nor did he crave my humiliation. The gangster possessed an angry streak that I sometimes had to watch out for. However, I preferred temper over malice.

The days in prison, like paintbrushes shaken off in a cups of water, lost color quickly. The weeks and months blended together into murk.

I only remembered one evening clearly.

“Hoshi. I know you don’t care about much….”

Owada wheezed out his last word and I didn’t blame him. He was on about his two hundredth push-up. He pumped out another set then sat.

“.... but I’m still wondering. Do you have a prized possession? Maybe that magazine? The one with all the cats? Is that special somehow?”

I blinked at my periodical. True, it was my favorite issue of Feline Monthly— the one focusing on Russian Blues, but…

“No. This isn’t my prized possession.”

“So, you don’t have one then. Bah. That’s what I thought.”

I stared at the biker. Sweat slicked his forehead and pompadour. His skin slowly cooled from its scarlet hue. I respected the guy for his energy, for looking towards freedom.

So I told him.

“I do have something. It’s this.”

I removed a pendant from my shirt and held the silver maneki-neko locket to the light. The back still bore a scuff from when someone had tried to snatch it from me in the shower room. The incident had resulted in an extended sentence for me and a shattered jaw for him.

I watched Mondo carefully. He didn’t seem cruel, but I was wary.

“It has…. someone…”

I cut myself off.

Mondo’s eyes widened. He stood quickly, towering over me, mouth agape so that I could see a gold molar.

“Is it ashes? You got ashes inside that thing?!”

I twitched at his guess. How— how had he correctly predicted what I’d been about to say?

“Shit….” he said. I was surprised to detect some amazement in his tone. “HOLY SHIT! This is crazy, Hoshi! It’s INSANE!”

He didn’t sound judgemental like most of the other inmates would have been, but instead enlivened. I clutched the metal cat, watching him closely.

“What’s going on?”

Quickly, he removed a leather wallet from his back pocket and grabbed something from the otherwise empty pouch.

A tiny baggy. Filled with chalky gray.

I sat up straight.

“Who… is that?”

“You’re first!” He gestured to my pendant.

_I can’t… but… maybe…_

I sighed, relenting.

“Her name was Aiko. My girlfriend.”

His eyes bugged.

“YOU had a chick?” he laughed. “Oh, dude! Did she carry you around in her purse like one of those chiuauas??”

I glowered and he coughed, pounding his chest to smother the laughter.

“Sorry. I’m actually impressed. I’ve always wanted a girl. Could never get one. I scare them off… Tell me about her.”

“She’s the one I avenged.”

I watched understanding creep onto his face. He held up his packet.

“Mine’s my bro. He… died in a crash.”

I sensed that he was leaving out an important detail, but I also sensed that I wasn’t supposed to ask about it.

“Anyway—”

Mondo reached beneath his cot and snatched out two items: a needle and a fountain pen.

“Got these from some guys in the yard. I was gonna just tell you about it, but now I’ll have you do it with me.”

“I’m not interested in having prison tattoos.”

He shook his head and indicated towards my pendant and his baggy.

“Not any tattoos. THEM. We’ll put them in the ink.”

I reeled back, momentarily losing my cool. How could he ask me to desecrate her?

“That’s messed up,” I said, keeping my voice level.

“We’re messed up!” he snapped. “Listen. There are some things so important that you can’t let anyone take them from you!”

Something about his passion compelled me to study the items once more. Aiko’s locket seemed to glow. Was this way truly safest? To never fear her loss again…

“Alright.”

Mondo grinned.

“Okay! Take your shirt off. I’ll draw yours and you draw mine.”

In the end, we decided on dates– their birthdays– as solid proof that they’d existed and that we’d once been cared about…. Long before we’d ended up in this grim place.

Mondo’s snores followed shortly after lights out. I stared up at the ceiling, a 7/04 stinging my chest. Somehow, I didn’t mind the burn. The pain, like a pickaxe, broke up the numbness.


End file.
